


Endgame

by Talullah



Category: TOLKIEN J. R. R. - Works, The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-25
Updated: 2014-08-25
Packaged: 2018-02-14 15:34:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,560
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2197155
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Talullah/pseuds/Talullah
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A little AU trip...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Endgame

**Author's Note:**

> Many thanks to aeneus for the beta. All remaining mistakes are mine.
> 
> Inspired by a [Library of Moria](http://www.libraryofmoria.com) challenge issued by Raphael: Aredhel/Finduilas; after leaving Gondolin, Aredhel goes to Nargothrond and seduces her young and innocent niece. So it's AU... and I used Tol-Sirion instead of Nargothrond and I'm considering Finduilas as a third cousin and not a niece.
> 
>  **Prompts:** fanfic100 prompt 019: white. ficalbum prompt 5: 'Endgame' by R.E.M.
> 
>  
> 
> [Disclaimer/Blanket Statement](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Talullah/profile)

**Tol Sirion, First Age 304**

Aredhel, Ar-Feiniel... white and perfect. Until she speaks, that is. What a startling vision she was when Finduilas first saw her riding through the plain, hair dishevelled, laughing like a mad woman. Her escort followed, looking chagrined even in the distance. Finduilas stood by her father's side, watching the advancing party in perplexity, like all the others. Aredhel dressed in white, as if she headed for a ball and rode a white horse. Even in that early moment, Finduilas thought her choice of colour was an affront, a pedantic statement of her supposed pure blood Noldorin superiority.

Orodreth, recognizing his cousin's colours ordered the gates open and the bridge lowered. She cantered in with a wild grin on her face and hoped off the poor horse into my father's arms, exclaiming, "Orodreth, cousin!" and kissing him on the lips.

Finduilas' discontentment took the form of a boiling rage. Had Aredhel no shame, to kiss him like that in front of his daughter? Behind Aredhel, her escort averted their eyes, standing in rigid embarrassment.

Orodreth made the proper introductions and conducted Aredhel and her escort to the guest chambers. Resentment against Aredhel and her own father filled Finduilas' mind in a dull throbbing. Orodreth should show embarrassment upon Aredhel's constant touching and kissing, and he should stolidly ignore her shameless flirting instead of playing along and laughing loudly enough to make heads turn. Finduilas tried to escape discreetly, but Orodreth caught her by the waist and pulled her close, telling her to be Aredhel's friend. Following her father and her unwelcome cousin through the hallways of Tol-Sirion in sulky silence, Finduilas thanked Elbereth that her mother was not here to witness this display of... of wildness. That is what it was: Aredhel was a wild thing, barely tamed by conventions and expectations.

That night, Orodreth ordered a proper banquet dinner to be made in Aredhel's honour. Finduilas seethed, but complied, ordering the cooks about and letting her temper surface more than once. Could Aredhel not see how scarce Tol-Sirion's resources were as she crossed the barren plains and entered the squalid courtyard? Another woman would have asked Orodreth for a simpler welcoming but Aredhel could not be bothered to care about others.

Finduilas sat at the head of the table, opposite to her father; too far to participate in the lively conversation, but not far enough to be able to ignore it. One of Aredhel's knights, a Glorfindel if she remembered correctly, tried to engage her in polite circumstantial conversation. It irritated her that he chose to butcher her mother's Silvan language, supposedly to please her. She replied as dryly and coldly as she could in pristine Quenya. He smiled and tried to rehash the conversation, but Finduilas turned to the side and addressed her father's councillor instead to ostensibly discuss poor crops and sparse game. The knight Glorfindel lowered his eyes to his plate, his cheeks faintly colouring and for an instant Finduilas felt remorse - her rage and Aredhel's cheek were hardly his fault. Her tinge of guilt was quickly washed away by another wave of loud laughter coming from the other end of the table.

For the rest of the meal she listened to Aredhel's enthusiastic retelling of her adventures outside of the White City, resenting her wealth, her beauty, her sophistication, her freedom, and even her coarseness as Aredhel lifted her voice to accompany the knight Egalmoth in a bawdy song... Only later that night when Finduilas prepared for bed, did she realise that Aredhel was inebriated with freedom, yes, but that her cousin was imprisoned in the gilded cage of her White City where life seemed to be suffocating and stilted.

In the following days, Aredhel became the centre of the life in the hold. Finduilas resentment washed in waves every time that her rightful place of chatelaine in her mother's absence was usurped by Aredhel. Too often for Orodreth's taste did she reply Aredhel's remarks coldly, bordering on rude. Aredhel simply laughed, quickly dismissing her moods, her disregard further spurring Finduilas' hate. Still, Aredhel's presence burned brightly, commanding admiration and desire where she passed, and Finduilas, to her dismay, quickly found she was not immune to her cousin's charms.

Pleasantly ignoring Finduilas' coldness, Aredhel took her as a personal a project. Dresses, hair, posture, dancing, singing... there was little Aredhel did not try to improve in Finduilas. Her instructions fascinated and incensed Finduilas in equal parts. It was plain to see that Aredhel did not considered her unsolicited assistance as patronizing, and despite the stabs to her pride, Finduilas revelled under her attentions. Besides, her overly warmth ways, galling at first, quickly and surely became irresistible to Finduilas.

A bond formed between them: convoluted, sometimes fragile, but present enough that after less than a month Finduilas could almost think of Aredhel as a friend, if not for some distance that Aredhel kept, despite all her warmth. There was too much mystery about Aredhel, and those quirky references about cousins Finduilas knew only by name and had no desire to meet... She could lose herself in memories from another world and dreams for her future travelling, leaving Finduilas behind. In those moments a strange possessiveness would embitter Finduilas. Aredhel had no right to ignore her like a discarded puppet. But she could never resent her cousin for long.

Much later, Finduilas would know another lover, someone as different from Aredhel as the moon from the sun. She would lie in his tranquil, strong arms, wondering how the heart that could love Gwindor's dew-kissed forests was the same heart that had dared to step into Aredhel's ring of fire. But those days were far to come and Aredhel's kisses were sweet and each day closer to her lips. Finduilas knew nothing of these things, safe for the precious little that she had gathered from her father's books. She knew her Noldorin kin thought nothing of flesh indulgences; eccentricities as long as they were not too conspicuous. She knew her cousin roused her into confusion and even shame. Aredhel was unreadable. Did she desire Finduilas? Did she play with her to mitigate her boredom? Was she oblivious?

If Aredhel was indeed playing cat and mouse she tired of the game soon enough. The only world she could summon to describe the end of her doubting was "red". Red as the wine she had drank throughout dinner. Red as the lips of the knight Glorfindel pursing in disapproval as Aredhel pulled her from his side at the table for a dance. Red as the fire that blazed in the hearth, and her father's pennants on the walls, and the liveries of the servants whirling around her. Or was it her and Aredhel that whirled?

Even as they swirled through the room she could feel eyes burning into her, full of admiration and desire and she knew then what it was like to be Aredhel. She could see herself and Aredhel through their eyes, how the gold of her tresses warmed by the deep red of her dress complimented Aredhel's sable on white; how her low giggles building up in a torrent were arpeggios to Aredhel's exclamations. They revelled in flaunting their grace and beauty until the rhythmical clapping was louder than the minstrel and their sides hurt for air.

In the tourbillion, Finduilas had finally understood that Aredhel indeed wanted her. Her heart had jumped but not faltered for in that moment she had understood her own desires and accepted them. Aredhel's hand on her waist, strong and soft, made her turn round and round, faster and faster. Even the sounds and the scents could be described by the colour red. Finduilas remembered falling into her own chair, lost in laughter under the complacent smile of her father and friends, the reproving blue gaze of Glorfindel, but she cared for neither; from across the table Aredhel's gaze promised things she could only divine.

How the banquet had ended and how Finduilas had found her way to Aredhel's room and not her own was something that the wine and the passion had erased from her mind. She recalled with acute precision though, how Aredhel had slammed the door behind her, pressing her to the wall before she could walk two steps into the room.

"You are fair, little cousin," she had said, her wine perfumed lips too close to Finduilas'.

Finduilas had only sighed, adjusting her body to Aredhel's, a slight shudder of pleasure coursing through her as her cousin parted her legs with her own, bringing them impossibly close.

Aredhel had kissed her boldly, invading her mouth with her tongue. "And sweet too," she had murmured in a raspy voice before plunging in for another kiss. Finduilas had been shocked and thrilled; kissing was so different than she had imagined. Before she had time to think herself inexperienced or inadequate, Aredhel's hands had burned through her body, searching for laces, taking her own hands and laying them upon her breasts. Finduilas fondled them delicately, almost in awe, but Aredhel wanted desire not reverence. She pressed her hand over Finduilas, squeezing the supple flesh and bringing the nipples to peeks. Leaving Finduilas to her own explorations, Aredhel impatiently pulled at the laces of her own gown, letting the white silk loose to flow from her shoulders to her waist and with a final tug to her feet. She wore nothing underneath. Finduilas gasped; her knees were week and between her legs a sudden rush of hot moisture made her feel suddenly embarrassed. Again, Aredhel gave her no time to think; she pulled Finduilas' lips to her breast demanding, "Kiss me, cousin." Finduilas obeyed, suddenly realising that anything she could do would be welcomed. Waiting for no second invitation, she took her mouth to Aredhel's immaculate skin, closing her eyes to inhale her cousin's mingled scent of roses and fresh sweat.

Aredhel quickly undressed her, getting rid of the ungracious undergarments with a disdainful sniff. When her fingers boldly dived between Finduilas' legs she almost screamed, but Aredhel silenced her with another deep kiss. The fingers were hard and silken, moving fast and hard. Aredhel took them to her mouth, tasting with closed eyes before quickly returning them to the liquid heat seeping from Finduilas' body.

"Taste yourself," she demanded, plunging her tongue into Finduilas' mouth.

A jolt of intense pleasure washed over Finduilas, seeming almost like pain. She pushed herself shamelessly against Aredhel yearning for more, for something she could not name yet. As a response, she heard a chuckle bubbling deep in Aredhel's throat. "Not yet, little cousin," she said.

To Finduilas' dismay Aredhel took her hand, leaving her panting and confused. Aredhel pulled her from the door into the bed. Finduilas regarded their rumpled clothes in brief amazement, before having her attention turned to Aredhel's pale skin over hers once more. Of their own accord, her legs opened again, exposing her to Aredhel. Her cousin pushed her further onto the bed and knelt between her thighs, tasting her with her fingers again, then with her tongue, hot and relentless. This time, before Aredhel could stop her, Finduilas let herself drift in the fast currents of sensation until her body tensed and with a cry of pleasure and surprise she felt the storm unleash its force on her in consecutive waves.

Aredhel lay by her side, her fingers still gently caressing her, touching her nipples lest they softened, kissing her neck and lips, leaving a delicate salty taste behind. Barely able to respond, Finduilas realised that her body was reawakening, that every inch of skin seemed more tender to touch and more eager too, almost raw. Aredhel's kisses grew impatient, their hunger reminding Finduilas that there was more to be had. She rolled from her back, taking possession of her cousin. Aredhel cast a feral grin as she was pinned back to the linen covers, promptly moving to accommodate Finduilas between her legs. Between voracious kisses and bruising grasps, they found a rhythm for the dance of the flesh. Finduilas could feel Aredhel coming closer to that shattering moment under her, her own sex throbbing with want and need. Aredhel's taste and scent filled her mouth as her tasting grew greedier. She could hear gasped instructions that she obeyed promptly, as if they had come from her own will. All that she was could be defined by Aredhel in the moment. Aredhel's thighs firmly wrapped about her shoulders, her own fingers deep into her, soft black curls tickling her nose, and the sounds, Valar, the sounds that left that throat...

When Aredhel finally came, she shouted an obscenity, so vulgar and so true that made Finduilas reach to touch herself. Aredhel let her legs fall from their heavy grip and lay sprawled on the bed, eyes half closed.

Finduilas moved to lay by her side, but she stopped her. "Don't stop touching yourself," she asked, command absent from her voice for the first time. Finduilas reclined on the pillows and obeyed, her gaze fixed into her eyes. Before long Aredhel was by her side, strong and wanting again.

The night was long and rich in pleasures. The first light already tinged the sky grey when Finduilas left with her crumpled dress to her room.

* * *

For one so young and sheltered, Finduilas knew many things. She knew talk had started and soon her little idyll would be a source of embarrassment and hardship. She knew that her recently returned mother regarded Aredhel with growing hostility, a deep Silvan grudge resurging so violently that even Orodreth could not appease it, worsened by the unspoken covenant that held her daughter in thrall to the Noldorin vices. Finduilas even knew that Aredhel was no one's to keep. She had known from the first night that whatever she may share with her cousin would be transient.

Still, when Aredhel decide to leave, barely two months after her arrival, Finduilas felt bereft and cheated. Aredhel left as she came, laughing, bristling with joy and life, already dreaming of new adventures and barely conceding a thought to the heart she left behind, falling to pieces. Finduilas remembered how the decision had been taken and executed in less than two days. How the sad, blue eyes of Glorfindel had offered her a sort of apology as they left. How her mother had snorted in irritation that even in leaving Aredhel had to make a show. Her father had behaved as if nothing had passed, and such a visit was ordinary business. Everyone else had seemed to sigh in relief, as if by her mere presence Aredhel could conjure storms or summer fires, endangering them and their precarious comforts.

Finduilas had died a little that day. Later she would learn that it was not such an uncommon feeling, this tight hand gripping her heart. Later she would know what it was to fall out of love and she would envy Aredhel for her nonchalance and lightness of heart. But at the moment of saying goodbye she could only think that the fates were cruel, that Aredhel had never loved her, that the world was unfair.

Later she would cherish that introduction to the ways of the heart and of the flesh but as Aredhel diminished into the horizon, her heart wept.

 

_Finis  
April 2007_


End file.
